Ummm, You're Bleeding On My Carpet
by SirnightDamaxan
Summary: Not everybody gets to say they clean Oliver Queen's blood off of their couch. Then again not everyone is Felicity Smoak are they? A series of one shots for Olicity centering around injuries of the heart or body and the hilarious or touching moments that ensue. FINISHED DUE TO LACK OF IDEAS.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note:**

**Alright this is a fluffy one shot for Olicity! As always stay happy and review!**

**Ummm..You're Bleeding On my Carpet**

Felicity would never in her whole life complain about being Oliver Queen's personal EA. Except that time when her big mouth just _had_ to mention "and I love spending the nights with you" and that time at his club Verdant when she _maybe_ had a little too much of a very good thing and started moaning about being under appreciated and Diggle ended up pulling her out of sight of the grinding and writhing dance floor. Okay, so she complained a lot, but that didn't mean she didn't love what she did! But dragging her sore body home from sitting at a desk chair (which must always be one of those rolling office chairs so she could twirl when she thought no one was looking) was not her idea of productivity. What she needed now was a long soak in a tub filled with hot water and lavender beads. Felicity smiled to herself as her heels clacked against the pavement towards her car. Yep, no one would bother her tonight. Oliver was at a charity auction with his family and Diggle was most likely enjoying a quiet evening reading his favorite guilty pleasure. Naturally the only one who would still be out and about was her but that was normal and she could easily function on a good four hours of sleep. College courses in Technology trained her well. Her apartment came into view as she maneuvered to her parking space, which of course had another car in it. Honestly, the landowners assign designated parking spots and _none_ of these jerks even use them! Felicity groaned in frustration and ended parking in the parking lot across the street. Walking around at night with mist fogging up her glasses and her legs shivering from the cold was not her cup of tea, which sounded freaking amazing right now, but Felicity braved the distance from parking lot to front door.

After her steamy bath of lavender, Felicity plopped herself on her cozy couch with a cup of chamomile tea and pulled up Netflix for her Doctor Who fix. Sipping gently on her tea and listening to the Tenth Doctor yelp gleefully "Allons-y" she heard a tapping at her window. It was faint and felt like something out of Edgar Allen Poe. She really needed to reign in her inner nerd harder. Felicity had a brief moment of panic and chewed her lip desperately trying to remember her self-defense lessons that Diggle and Oliver had so graciously taught her. The tapping came again but this time firmer and more impatiently. She grabbed her empty tea mug and brandished it high over head. God I feel ridiculous, she thought. Gritting her jaw firmly she opened her window and bonked the offender on the head. Who unfortunately was her boss who also happened to be bleeding all over his totally _not_ sexy leather. There goes Employee of The Month genius.

"Crap!" she cried as it crashed to the floor "I'm soooo sorry Oliver!" Hissing softly at the pain Oliver limped to her couch his hand firmly settled on his side. Felicity suddenly regretted wearing her fleecy cupcake pajamas tonight. "Do I want to know what happened? You were _supposed_ to be at a charity auction!" Felicity grabbed rubbing alcohol from her bathroom and returned to find Oliver staring at the ceiling. His clear blue eyes glittered underneath the dark green mask and grease paint and his breathing was shallow. Felicity drew in a breath and muttered softly "Um...I kind of need you to take off your jacket." She chewed her fuchsia lip nervously "Of course to see your wound not your muscly chest. Not that I don't want to see your chest! I'm going to shut up now. In 3..2..1." Her face rivaled her lip color and it burned uncomfortably. Oliver smiled softly and gingerly pulled off his leather and winced as it tugged on his dried blood.

"Does it look as bad as it feels?" He grimaced. Felicity ignored the desire to run her fingertips across his abs and focused on the gash on his side. It wasn't deep enough for stitches but it would leave a temporary scar.

"Well it certainly isn't stitches worthy but it's really bloody. Now explain to me why The Hood decided to make an appearance on my night off." Oliver sat up on the couch and Felicity knelt before him. Her hands started trembling from how close she was to his body and his natural smolder was boring into her head as he attempted to focus on anything but the pain.

"I got a lead." He finally ground out. He growled in pain when Felicity finally put an alcohol soaked gauze against his exposed skin. She muttered an apology and continued to gently clean the dried blood. "There was a gang harassing a woman next to the auction and I couldn't just sit idly by. But one of the thugs distracted me and I got sliced. I should've been more focused..." His eyes got out of focus briefly. Felicity covered his wound and placed a reassuring hand on his cheek.

"Oliver..." she murmured "Oliver look at me, hey. Just because one guy got you does not make you a failure. You are nothing like those jerks who ruined Starling." Oliver closed his eyes in denial. Felicity scratched her nails gently on his stubble to get his attention again. "_Nothing._ Okay you are the best thing to happen to Starling City in a long time but your constant down grading will get you nowhere! Please Oliver appreciate yourself once in a while." She smiled softly and lowered her hand. Oliver caught her wrist and held it firmly. He stared intently into her eyes and leaned forward slightly she inhaled sharply at the feel of his warm breath on her lips.

"Felicity..." he breathed. "You are remarkable. Whatever you do to me please don't ever stop." Personally Felicity never wanted him to stop saying her name with such reverence it gave her crazy goosebumps all over her body. He ghosted his lips over hers in a platonic way but it was all she could do to not press him against her cushions and let all of this frustration leave her body. He separated and Felicity shivered from the sudden lack of warmth. He pulled on his leather and headed back to the window.

"Oliver!" Felicity called to him before he left. "Whatever you're doing for this city...please don't ever stop." Oliver smiled and left silently into the chilly night. Felicity noted that her lips still tingled. She glanced to the couch and saw rust colored stains all over it. And that was how she ended up cleaning her fabrics for most of the night. But of course every EA complains once in a while, right?

**Author's Note:**** Please comment and review I love hearing from you all!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: ****So back by popular demand is Olicity one-shots! My fellow fanfiction appreciator Queen Peacock has requested that Oliver gets hurt doing something normal so as my first prompt I appreciate you greatly! :) This is the result of my brain working a bit too hard. As always review and give me some more prompts. I love your suggestions tremendously!**

**Chapter Two**

Oliver Queen was many things. However of the many things Oliver was good at (and Felicity daydreamed frequently about whilst chewing on her abused writing utensils which recently scattered the office like mangled art deco as if to say "Felicity's been here!") he was certainly not a gourmet chef. Granted he knew how to cook anything meat related, his five years on an island taught him to not be picky, and he also could make a perfect piece of toast but he paled at the thought of five-course meals and fancy knife work. He still believed vehemently that a knife as large as a chef's knife should not be twirled or tossed about like a rag doll, it should be honored and respected as the knife that brings you food and could save your life...but then again that was the island talking. So when Felicity announced to him that she wanted time off for her birthday he impulsively asked her "Where are you having dinner?" Felicity leaned against his desk, back facing him, as he attempted valiantly to ignore the way that purple pinstriped pencil skirt hugged her butt _just_ right.

"Ummm, that new French restaurant in town. I heard their wine selection was exquisite." She turned to face him and her bright blue eyes (God, did everything on her body have to be bright? It was like looking at the sun too long and seeing spots before your eyes) longed for him to say yes to her well deserved time off.

"How about you have good wine from my cellar and forget the restaurant?" Smooth Oliver. Smooth. Felicity eyed him suspiciously.

"What are you suggesting Oliver? That I have my birthday dinner with you? My boss? My totally hot boss who needs to ignore my babbling right this very moment?" She blushed gently. Oliver smiled gently in spite of himself.

"Yes. I'll make dinner, I owe you a birthday present anyways." Felicity stared open-mouthed and gaped like a fish gasping for air. Nervously she adjusted her glasses and nodded slightly. "Fine. I'll see you at my house at eight. Deal?" Felicity could only squeak in response.

So Oliver was creating a French birthday dinner for Felicity. Out of all the cuisines she could have chosen it just had to be the one with the most culinary techniques. Thea had waggled her eyebrows knowingly when he told her the news of his birthday dinner dilemma and declared to Moira that she was in _dire_ need of a spa day with Mother-Daughter time which proceeded to rid the house of all unwelcome eyes. Searching through old recipes he found the dish pork in creamy mushroom sauce, which luckily he knew would go well with Pinot Noir. The pork had been cooked and seasoned, he knew how to do that, the wine had been placed on the table and then came the sauce. He eyeballed the mushrooms apprehensively and gripped his knife tightly, _honestly,_ he thought,_ how hard can slicing mushrooms be?_ Unfortunately he forgot that mushrooms like to roll and he also forgot that chef knives are much sharper than average knives (although a debate could be made that the ones he took the time to labor over could slice air). The pain of sliced knuckles quickly made shock waves across his body. He growled in frustration as the doorbell rang. He quickly shot his eyes towards the clock in the living room and realized to his horror it was eight o-clock on the dot. Of course she had to be prompt! But it was a comfort to know that she would always be there when he asked her to be. He hid his bloody knuckles(which were now thumping with his pulse and making him feel slightly woozy) behind his back and answered the door. He felt his heart leap into his throat and his hand grumble in protest. Felicity was wearing a simple black dress that clasped in the front with a single silver clasp that vaguely resembled an arrow. Her rather fantastic legs stretched a mile-long in her silver strappy stilettos and her lips were painted her trademark fuchsia.

"Hi Jeeves." She giggled. Oliver suddenly realized his attempt at hiding his knuckles made him appear in a classic butler stance. He hurriedly adjusted to look more like Oliver Queen. She smiled softly and stepped inside to the table. Oliver quickly poured her some wine and she hummed in appreciation of it's earthy leather aroma but sweet notes of flavor. "You just can't find good wine like that anymore Oliver." He chuckled lightly and sat himself across from her. Felicity's eyes widened when she finally noticed his bleeding hand(which by now made Oliver feel like fainting) and she rushed into his kitchen and grabbed a paper towel from the counter top. "Put pressure on it now!" she was forceful when she was worried.

"Don't worry Felicity I was going to do it after dinner." he assured her softly.

"What and bleed all over dinner?! Or worse faint in the middle of chewing!? You could choke and die you moron! God how do I put up with you and your stubborn masculine tendencies?" During her rant she grabbed gauze from the first aid located in the kitchen, Moira Queen always thought ahead. She was wrapping his knuckles stoically and muttering oaths and "why do I even bothers". Then, Oliver had no idea if it was instinct or on a whim, Felicity gingerly kissed his hand and whispered "all better". He felt his brain fizzing out and was drawn out of his Felicity kissed me stupor when she called

"Are you going to give me dinner or do I have to make sure you didn't bleed all over that too?" Oliver simply obliged and thanked her with a gentle kiss on the head.

**Author's Note:**

**I hope you enjoyed it and let me know your next ideas for this series!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **

**I thought I'd update for you all and perhaps receive fresh inspiration for prompts! I love you all and thanks for your support, you have no idea how wonderful it is to know that someone loves the way you write. This one shot focuses mainly on the emotional hurt of "I love you, but there's no way you love me back". As always stay happy and enjoy Chapter Three!**

**Chapter Three**

Being in love with Oliver Queen was like being in love with a bruise. It hurts for a while and it's stormy and dark with unrequited emotions, then it lightens up and it hurts only when you poke it the wrong way, only it's too much fun to poke it, so the only person who still feels anything is you. Felicity was in love with Oliver Queen and she was positive her analogy of bruises was spot on. She was sitting in her office, staring at Oliver through the glass, and chewing on her favorite mechanical pencil. It was a bad habit, she knew, but a nervous habit does not make it a bad one and she reminded her coworkers of it everyday. It was dark, with the only light coming from the chilling blue glow from her computer and the warm orange of her desk lamp (Felicity didn't want the lamp and insisted to Diggle that she wore glasses already so it didn't matter if it was bad for her eyes but two gentle threats later it was plopped on her desk). The city lights shown beneath like the wiring in a giant motherboard and the lonely honking of the cars underneath echoed back. Oliver leaned his head against one of his large calloused hands. Felicity knew they were calloused because they would brush against her arm or rest on her shoulder when he leaned down to see her technological magic in action. Felicity swallowed slowly and put her pencil down on her keyboard.

He looked exhausted, and the shadows in the office licked at his face and darkened his already smoky face. Felicity always called his face smoky, she didn't like calling it a shadow because his personality wasn't as dark as people assumed, and it certainly wasn't clean shaven because those bristles would scratch her palms when she forced him to look her in the eye. Smoky suited him best, dark enough that it was visible to the naked, or in her case, glasses bearing eye but still clear enough that you could see right through it. It had been a long night for both of them, although The Hood had nothing to do, Oliver had to attend business conference after business conference and schmooze up to every last tycoon willing to invest. Felicity endured whispers around the office of "there goes Mr. Queen's _personal _assistant" and "I bet e-mails aren't the only things she opens". The usual jealous coworker crap, but it killed her steadily on the inside because everything she did she did for herself. Felicity was far too proud to accept the assistance of others. She rose from her wheeled office chair and shut off her computer with a practiced flick of her wrist. Taking a deep breath she strode to Oliver's desk and listened to the determined clack of her magenta heels. He lifted his head tiredly and inhaled as though he just woke up from a doze, it honestly wouldn't surprise her if he had.

"Hey" he mumbled. His voice seemed rougher in the dark, and Felicity took great care in cataloging that one in her mental file of "Things Oliver does that are Attractive" (it was already crammed full and close to bursting)

"Hey yourself boss" she teased.

"What time is it Felicity?" Felicity strongly resisted the urge to say "time for you to get a watch" and instead grabbed his suit jacket from the adjoining chair and whispered eleven o-clock. He sighed and rose from his chair unsteadily. Felicity offered his jacket and he muttered a "thank you". Felicity was making her way back to her desk to grab her purse when Oliver spoke up again.

"Do you need a ride home, Felicity?" she stopped herself and turned to face him. Honestly, how much more stuff can she cram in that file.

"No thank you, Oliver. Unless those idiots in the office hijacked my car, I should be fine." She smiled softly and gently rapped on the hard wood of her desk. Oliver raised his eyebrow in confusion from her gesture. "Oh it's a stupid superstition. Um, the phrase 'knock on wood' ring any bells?" He shook his head slowly and smirked.

"Sorry Felicity, you just didn't strike me as the superstitious type. Good night then." He walked towards the door and held it open for her. (Come on file you can fit one more, right?) She clacked through, keys jingling softly in her hand, and graciously smiled at him. Felicity couldn't remember the last time she loved a bruise as much as Oliver Queen.

**Author's Notes **

**Thank you for reading and I'll update as soon as I can. Let me know if you want me to expand on their chemistry in something other than injury one-shots. Review please!**


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